


Hold Me Tight (Or Don't)

by BleedingInk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fights, Friendship, Implied Sexual Content, Meg Lives, Reconciliation, Romance, Wheelchair User Meg, because I say so, what are you gonna do about it?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 00:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16800448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: The general mood inside the Impala was foul. Sam had had more than one awkward ride inside that car, normally after one disaster or fight or another had occurred and this was not nearly the worst of them all, but to be honest, it was up there.Both Meg and Castiel were staring out of their respecting window, scooted away as far as they could from each other, leaving plenty of room in the middle for a visibly uncomfortable Jack, who sat with his back rigid and his hands clasped on his lap.





	Hold Me Tight (Or Don't)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my friend Lisa's birthday. Happy birthday, hope you like it!

The general mood inside the Impala was foul. Sam had had more than one awkward ride inside that car, normally after one disaster or fight or another had occurred and this was not nearly the worst of them all, but to be honest, it was up there.

He glanced at the occupants of the backseat. Both Meg and Castiel were staring out of their respecting window, scooted away as far as they could from each other, leaving plenty of room in the middle for a visibly uncomfortable Jack, who sat with his back rigid and his hands clasped on his lap. Sometimes he moved or cleared his throat as if he wanted to say something, but since no one looked at him, he just went quiet and immobile once again.

Honestly, if it’d been up to Sam, he would have left them all in the bunker. He’d heard the awful fight that Castiel and Meg had the night before (it had been hard to miss, what with the light bulbs flickering and the walls shaking). Meg had been furious that Castiel didn’t know that she’d died and had accused him of not caring about her, threatening to leave the bunker despite the new physical limitations of her body. Castiel had started pleading with her, but as the night went on and Meg refused to accept his apologies, he’d become more and more incense.

“What do you want me to say, Meg?”

“Nothing!” she’d replied, her tone cutting and final. “You left me to die! You let Crowley kill me! And you didn’t even bother to ask what happened to me! You really think this is going to get solved just by you saying you’re sorry?”

And so, there they were now.

A part of Sam had wanted to go on the hunt with Dean alone, like the old times, and leave the angel and the demon to figure out their issues by themselves in the bunker. But Jack had insisted on coming, because people up and disappearing from their homes in a twenty mile radius could mean that angels were rapturing vessels for Michael’s army and he wanted to participate on that, despite his grace still being depleted. Since they hadn’t been able to convince him not to, Castiel had then insisted to come along as well.

At that point, Sam was thinking perhaps that was even better: Castiel and Meg spending some time apart would give them time to cool off and maybe find a way to work out their issues. But then Dean had showed up pushing Meg’s wheelchair along while Sam was loading up the Impala in the bunker’s garage.

Meg didn’t look happy about it.

“Sam, can you tell your brother to release me?” she’d asked, raising her hand to show that Dean had shackled her to the chair with the special demon handcuffs.

Sam had been too stunned for a second or two to react.

“What… why are we taking Meg?” he’d asked, frowning. “You think she’s gonna help us on the case?”

Meg had let out a bitter laugh while Dean had rolled his eyes and started helping with the bags.

“No, I don’t think she can help.”

“And even if I could, I wouldn’t,” Meg had added. “Already laid down my life for you two morons once.”

Sam had taken note of how she’d very carefully excluded Castiel from that sentence.

“But I’m not going to leave her alone in the bunker unsupervised,” Dean had continued, as if Meg hadn’t spoken at all. “We have a place full of twitchy trauma survivors and I’m not eager to find out what would happen if we add a snarky demon to the mix. So we’re taking her.”

He’d said in the tone that indicated that his decision was final and there was no point in arguing with him. Sam had opened his mouth to argue anyway, but then Castiel and Jack showed up, each of them with their bags slung over their shoulders. They’d both seemed surprise to see Meg there and she’d pointedly looked away from them, as if she was decided to completely ignore them.

“Help Meg into the car and make sure to cuff her right,” Dean had said, tossing the keys at Sam.

And there hadn’t been much left to say after that.

“I am… really sorry about this, Meg,” he’d apologized as he secured her to the door pull.

“Not sorry enough to make a fuzz about it, though, right, Sammy?”

Sam hadn’t even tried to deny it. When he’d turned to store Meg’s chair in the trunk, he’d caught Castiel and Dean speaking rapidly in almost whispers while Jack looked on as if he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

“I don’t know, Cas, deal with it!” Dean had concluded. He’d turned his back on the angel and climbed on the driver’s seat.

So it was either get in the car with an angel and a demon who were mad at each other or be left behind at the bunker, also with an angel and a demon who were mad at each other.

At least when they’d arrived to the motel, they would be able to leave Meg behind and maybe some of the awkwardness would be lifted.

Maybe.

“Again… I’m really sorry about this,” Sam insisted as he parked Meg’s chair in front of the TV, once again with one of her hands shackled to it.

The car ride had done nothing for Meg’s mood, because instead of snapping something sarcastic at him, she just shot him a glare that clearly indicated she was planning on the best way to rip out his spine.

“Do you mind at least leaving me some money to order pay per view so I can entertain myself?” she asked him.

“Yes, of course.” Sam ignored the stink eye Dean was giving him from the doorway and pulled out his wallet. “Just, uh… don’t go anywhere.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t if I could,” she replied sharply, shaking her hand to make the chain jingle.

Sam closed the motel room’s door behind him and huffed out. Dean waited for him, leaning against the Impala as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He got up and walked towards the passenger seat, but Jack and Castiel stayed where they were, standing around the parking lot. Jack had his hands in his pockets and Castiel stared wistfully at the door Sam had just closed behind him, as if what he wanted to do more than anything in the world was to march inside and talk to Meg once more. When he noticed Sam looking at him, he quickly looked away.

“Are we going or what?” Dean asked, opening the door and beckoning them to get inside.

“Are you sure she’s going to be okay in there?” Jack asked.

“No, I’m not sure.” Dean rolled his eyes. “If it was up to me, we also would’ve painted a Devil’s Trap around her chair to make doubly sure she isn’t going to get away.”

“It’s bad enough that you dragged her all the way here,” Sam said. “You don’t have to humiliate her some more.”

“Oh, so you suddenly care what that bitch…?”

It happened so fast that it took Sam a second or two to process.

In the blink of an eye, Castiel was standing right in front of Dean, with his arm right on his neck, pinning him against the car. Despite Dean being a few inches taller than Castiel’s vessel, the angel had such a deep, furious frown up in his face that he looked bigger and menacing in a way Sam had seldom seen him.

“Don’t… talk about her like that,” he growled through gritted teeth.

“Okay, okay!” Sam said, putting a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and trying to pull back. It was like trying to move an iron post. “I think we all need to calm down. Dean is sorry, okay?”

Dean looked at him with eyes almost popping out of their sockets and opened and close his mouth soundlessly.

“Cas, you’re choking him!”

Castiel released Dean, very slowly. Dean sucked in a breath and coughed.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Sorry.”

Castiel finally allowed Sam to pull him back a little. He was still looking at Dean as if he was going to smite him at any second.

“Cas, I think you should stay,” Sam stated. That finally got the angel to look at him instead.

“What are you saying?”

“You’re obviously not in the right state of mind to handle this. You need to stay. You can help us with the research if you want to, but I don’t want you losing your cool out there in the field, especially if angels are involved.”

“No, I have to go with you. Jack…”

“I can take care of myself,” Jack said.

“And you know we’re going to be watching his back,” Sam added quickly, because he needed to take his chance while Cas was still stunned by his request and Dean was still struggling to catch his breath. “Stay here, man. You need to cool off.”

It came out a little more forceful than Sam was hoping, but then, he was trying his best to keep his cool. Castiel had attacked Dean, after all, even if Dean had been wrong for dragging Meg there in the first place.

Castiel frowned at him, his lips parted as if he was looking for the words to defend himself, but in the end, his shoulders slumped and he nodded.

“Very well. If you think that is for the best…”

Sam signaled for Jack and Dean to get in the car before anybody changed their mind. Castiel stood very still, glancing at them soulfully as they drove away.

“What’s with him?” Dean huffed when they were out of the motel’s parking lot and (probably) out of Castiel’s angelic earshot.

“I think Meg’s return affected him a little,” Sam ventured.

“Yeah, it affected all of us. Like it’s fun to have a smug, loud, annoying little…”

“I like her,” Jack said.

Dean stepped on the brakes. The Impala lurched forwards and then stopped brusquely just as the light in front of them turned red.

“What?” Dean asked, turning his head to the nephilim.

“I like her,” Jack repeated. “I think she’s cool.”

He didn’t elaborate any further, even though Dean kept staring at him until Sam pointed out to him that the light had turned green.

* * *

Well, he really had no one to blame but himself. Of course Sam didn’t want him around after losing his temper in that manner. Castiel really should’ve known better or he should’ve had the presence of mind to remain calm.

But when Dean had spoken of Meg so dismissively, his blood had boiled for reasons that he couldn’t explain. No, that wasn’t quite right. He could explain them, he just… didn’t think that Sam and Dean would understand them.

He knew both brothers had been in love before and that they had lost these women they’d love one way or another. He knew they would tell him it was maybe too rushed to qualify what he felt for Meg as love, but after five years of her absence and after her sudden return, he wasn’t about to star denying what he knew deep inside, deeper even than his vessel, a certainty that had his very grace vibrating with it.

He also couldn’t deny that she drove him out of his mind. Last night fight had been exhausting and emotionally taxing. Castiel had conceded to every point that she had made about why he’d never looked for her, about why he never inquired about her whereabouts, but that somehow had still not been enough for her. A part of him dreaded that nothing he did or said would ever be enough for her to forgive him.

And that was the reason he stood in the parking lot instead of going back inside the room. He dreaded the confrontation that could take place there.

But people passing by were throwing strange looks at him, probably wondering what a man in a suit and trench coat was doing idling there. He couldn’t keep postponing it.

Meg was trying to lock pick her cuffs with a bobby pin she had got only his Father knew where. She stopped in the middle of the operation to look up at him when he walked inside, but immediately returned her attention to what she was doing.

Castiel watched her in silence, his heart thrumming softly at the very sight of her. After her return, she had decided to keep her hair bleached blonde, a way to claim it back after what Crowley had done to her. For reasons neither of them could explain (Meg suspected it had to with the wounds Crowley had inflicted on her, Castiel blamed the Empty’s influence), she couldn’t walk properly, so they’d stolen a wheel chair from a nearby hospital. She’d called it “borrowing”, but Castiel doubted they were ever going to return it.

She looked tinier and more fragile than ever, sitting there with a frown of concentration on her face, but Castiel didn’t fool himself. She still had her powers in full. She could send him flying to the other side of the room if she so wished to, so when he approached her, he did so very calmly and slowly, as one would when trying to calm an angry and savage animal.

“I can do it, don’t worry,” she muttered when she noticed him moving. “It’s a bit hard with one hand…”

Castiel sat on the bed next to her, stretched his hand and gently grazed the handcuff with his fingers. He resisted the urge to touch her and sent a soft pulse of energy towards the metal. It unlocked with a soft “click”.

Meg lifted up her hand and looked at it, as if surprised to see it released.

“You can go, if you want to,” Castiel told her softly. “I… I won’t tell the boys.”

Meg’s lips formed a hard line, but she didn’t disappear.

“And where would I go, exactly?” she asked him. “It’s not as if I have a home to go to, and I don’t think your brothers and sisters would appreciate me just roaming the earth, would they?”

It was far from her usual biting sarcasm, but there was some truth to her statement. With the demons refusing to name a new King or Queen after Sam had threatened them and Michael gathering his armies, the safest place for her to be was with them. Meg might have been furious with him, but not enough to lose her head over it and do something stupid.

In that way, she had a better sense of self-preservation than him.

“What are you smiling about?” she snapped, and Castiel immediately controlled his expression.

“I’m sorry. I assume you would… after the things we’ve said last night…”

Meg closed her eyes and shook her head. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

She rolled her chair away from him, as if she wanted to put some distance between the two of them. Castiel remained where he was, looking at her with a longing that made him feel so empty and so desperate his throat was getting clogged.

It was as if he was going to lose her all over again. As if he had lost her already.

“Meg,” he called her softly.

That wasn’t her name. It was a name she had stolen long ago from a girl she had possessed and got killed. When he thought about all the things she had done, it wasn’t hard to understand why Dean was so reluctant to let her out of his sight. But then, Castiel had done even more destructive, terrible things, some of which he knew he’d never be forgiven for. If there was anyone in the world who knew what it was like to carry the weight of all those regrets, it had to be Meg.

He didn’t know if she regretted anything. Maybe it wasn’t in a demon’s nature to regret, but then, he’d also thought it wasn’t in their nature to love. And Meg had loved him. Even if she didn’t anymore, he couldn’t forget the way her eyes had looked so soft and so sweet when she’d talked about surviving the ordeal and meeting with him again to…

He realized he was staring and lowered his eyes. He could feel Meg’s gaze boring into him, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet it.

“Do you even understand why I’m pissed at you?” she asked.

“Yes.” Castiel cleared his throat and started listing his mistakes the way it felt like he’d been doing since Meg returned: “I didn’t go back for you. I didn’t look for you. I didn’t ask about you. I assume that you just wanted to lay low and…”

“That’s exactly it!” she interrupted him. “We had a date, Castiel! Do you really think I would’ve stood you up just because? I thought you knew me better than that!”

The fury made her voice tense and trembling. Her brown eyes looked almost black, not as they did when her demonic nature came to the surface, but darker as if her rage and her disappointment preventing them from shining like Castiel knew they could.

His bafflement kept him silent for a moment. He’d thought she was angry because he had thought just staying away from his and the Winchesters’ problems. Now he realized she was angry because he hadn’t been able to imagine what had really happened to her.

He stood up and slowly made his way to the other queen-sized bed, to be close to her once more.

“I’m sorry,” he said, again. “I know I could say it a thousand times and you wouldn’t believe me…”

Meg made a sound, something between a laugh and an exasperated huff.

“But I really am,” Castiel insisted. He stretched his hand and, carefully, grabbed hers. “To tell you the truth… a part of me did think that something had happened to you, but I preferred not to think about it. I preferred to believe that you were somewhere safe, that you were keeping yourself out of trouble.”

She made that sound again, but this time, it was more amused than anything.

“When have you known me to do that?” she asked, finally turning to look at him again.

She had a point.

“How can I make it up to you, Meg?”

He placed a hand on her cheek and looked at her intently. He could see the darkness pulsing and swirling right underneath her human skin. He didn’t understand how he’d once thought she was loathsome. She was something wild and dangerous, like a gathering storm.

“I don’t know,” she said, but her tone was much softer than before. Her hands reached for his chest and her hand fidgeted with his tie. “I guess we’ll have to come up with something.”

Even before she tugged from it, even before he leaned forwards without resistance to fall into her lips, he already knew that even if she forgave him, she would never tell him. She would hold this over his head forever to get away with hers whenever she felt like it.

And part of loving her, he figured, was that he was willing to let her.

* * *

Castiel had never understood human’s obsession with water, but even he had to admit this was rather nice. The motel’s tub was a little small for him, so he had to maintain a half-sitting, half leaning position at all times, but he didn’t mind. Keeping the water warm required only some energy and he was certain that when his Father had sung him into existence and given him all those wonderful powers, He hadn’t imagined he would one day use them for something as mundane as this.

But this was pleasant, especially with Meg’s naked body draped over his chest. She hummed softly, almost like the purr of a content cat.

“See? Told you this would be nice.”

“You were right,” he said. He ran his fingers through her wet hair to untangle it.

“Those are the words any girl wants to hear.”

She turned around (the water splashed outside the tub with the sudden movement) and lassoed her arms around his neck. Castiel leaned over to kiss her again, because despite everything they had done in the last six hours, he still wasn’t tired of that. He didn’t think that he would ever be tired of it. He let his fingers wander down her back…

The room’s door opened, but a quick assessment let him know immediately that it was just the Winchesters and Jack returning.

“Cas, are you here?” Dean asked as they stepped inside.

“Meg?” Sam called.

Meg groaned, as if the last thing she wanted was to stop kissing Castiel to answer to them, but she did anyway.

“I’m in here, taking a bath. So don’t fucking come in.”

There was a stunned silence on the other side of the door, but whatever the reason for that, they got over pretty quickly.

“So, there are people disappearing in this town, but we don’t think the angels have anything to do with it,” Sam said. Castiel heard the crinkling of paper bags as he left them in them on the table. It appeared the Winchesters had stopped for a short supply run on their way back. “There were no religious delusions or anyone mentioning that angels were speaking to them before they vanished.”

“Why are Castiel’s clothes on the door?” Jack’s voice chimed in.

There was a stunned silence on the room.

“We should come out,” Castiel told Meg in a whisper.

She groaned her annoyance, but nodded. Castiel untangled himself from her (he never suspected he would feel so cold after having done so) and wrapped himself in one of the bathrobes they’d requested from the front desk.

“Uh… look, if Cas is in there with you, we need to talk to him,” Sam said. “’Cause we have no idea what’s causing the disappearances, so we have to brainstorm…”

Castiel leaned over and helped Meg sit on the edge of the tub and threw the robes over shoulders. Her chair rolled towards them, seemingly out of its volition.

“Of course he’s not there with her,” Dean said. He sounded irritated. His steps stomped towards the door. “Hey, bitch, what did you do to Cas?”

He opened the door despite Meg’s warning, just as Castiel was helping her return to her chair.

Deliberately slow, Meg placed her arms inside the sleeves of the robe and then closed it over her breasts. Not out of modesty, Castiel suspected, just because she probably didn’t believe that Dean deserved to see them. Her glare was filled with irritation, but she still smirked.

“Oh, I did all sorts of things to him. And he did all sorts of things to me. Would you like the play by play?”

Dean, who’d been standing frozen on the doorway since seeing them, blinked. Then threw his hands in the air, spun on his heels and left the room altogether.

Castiel pushed Meg’s chair out of the bathroom.

“Is he still mad at me for our… earlier altercation?” he asked, worriedly.

Jack alternatively looked at the door that Dean had slammed in his wake and to Castiel and Meg. Sam bit the inside of his cheek, as if he couldn’t quite come up with an answer to that. Meg, on her part, snickered softly.

“That’s too bad. I was going to tell him all about the things we did on his bed.”

* * *

Castiel found that Dean hadn’t gone very far. Of course, they hadn’t heard the roar of the Impala’s motor as he drove away, so he suspected that wherever Dean might have gone it had to be on foot. In fact, he hadn’t even left the motel’s premises. He was just sitting inside of his car, with the music turned up very loud. Castiel leaned over and tapped on the window’s glass. Dean slowly turned to look at him, with both his hands on the wheel and for a second, it seemed like he was going to drive away after all.

In the end, though, Dean leaned over and unlocked the door to let Castiel inside. He turned off the radio as Castiel sat in the passenger’s seat.

“Glad to see you got your clothes back on,” Dean groaned.

Castiel looked down at his suit and trench coat and then again at Dean. He didn’t know how to answer to that, so he decided to simply state the reason for his presence there.

“Sam thinks we should talk.”

“Yeah? What about?”

“I’m not sure. I think he was under the impression you’d be bothered by the… development in my relationship with Meg.”

Dean let out a laughter, but there was nothing humorous in it.

“Oh, he thought I would be bothered?”

“Those weren’t exactly his words…”

“Because, hey, you know I’m all about you letting loose and getting your freak on,” Dean interrupted him. “But with Meg? Really? _Meg_?”

Castiel was tempted to ask what was wrong with Meg, but he didn’t really need to. He could imagine the answer and he suspected that Dean was going to tell him soon enough.

“She almost kill us, Castiel! Several times!” Dean screamed, right on cue. “She killed Ellen and Jo!”

Castiel figured it would be useless to point out that there was a war going on back then and that Meg had been on the opposite side. That Jo had died trying to save Dean from the Hellhounds and that Ellen had decided she’d rather die than live without her daughter. It had been tragic and he knew that Dean still mourned them despite seldom talking about them.

But also…

“I broke Sam’s wall,” Castiel reminded him. “The one that protected him from all the awful memories from Hell. He almost went insane due to the trauma and the pain, and that was my fault. And you were able to forgive me, despite Sam being the person you love most in the world.”

“Come on, man,” Dean muttered. “You made it up to us.”

“Crowley imprisoned Bobby’s soul for centuries in Hell,” Castiel reminded him. “You were able to work with him multiple times, regardless of it. You even struck a friendship of sorts with him, while you were a demon yourself.”

“Crowley was a necessary evil! And you can’t compare…!”

“Didn’t Meg make it up to you when she died so I could make a run with the Tablet? And then when you neglected to mention her passing to me, so she went unmourned and forgotten? Wasn’t that enough for you?”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. Castiel just watched him closely, his irritation threatening to spill over again. He managed to contain himself this time over, however, and continued speaking calmly:

“I’m not asking you to understand it, Dean. And I’m certainly not asking for your approval.”

“Good, ‘cause I don’t…”

“I merely need you to accept this is how things are going to be from now on,” Castiel concluded, bluntly.

Dean shook his head. He clearly wasn’t happy with this development, but he failed to come up with anything to counter Castiel’s argument.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do. Meg is a good teacher and I’m a fast learner.”

Dean stared at him and then, as what Castiel was implying dawned on him, closed his eyes very slowly.

“No. No. Don’t ever… please, don’t…”

“Very well,” Castiel agreed. “But we also need to talk about the hostile language you use regarding her.”

“Alright, fine, I won’t call her a bitch anymore!” Dean promised. “Just… I don’t need to know, okay?”

Castiel nodded. “I’m glad we had this talk, Dean.”

He exited the car and returned to the motel room, where Sam and Jack had unwrapped the food they had brought. They were apparently telling Meg all the details about the case, while Meg hummed and nodded, sometimes stealing fries from Jack’s plate.

“All the people left their homes seemingly out of their own free will,” Jack explained. “There weren’t any signs of violence or that they had fought. They just… walked out and didn’t return.”

“You could be dealing with the Pied Piper,” Meg suggested, popping a fry in her mouth.

Jack frowned. “Is that a common type of monster?”

Castiel stood by Meg’s side since there were no more chairs available. The room felt a little crowded with everybody in there. It probably wasn’t designed to have so many people in it at the same time, but he didn’t feel too uncomfortable in it. He was pleasantly tired, something he hadn’t thought was possible before.

“Hey, where’s Dean?” Sam asked.

“He’s taking some time to think some things over.”

Just as Castiel said that, Dean sauntered back inside the room, his expression unreadable. He grabbed one of the burgers and bit a huge chunk of it in silence. He then swallowed and said:

“I think we should leave this room for Meg and Cas and get another one.”

He didn’t even look directly at them.

Meg burst into laughter.

“I think that’s the best idea you’ve had in ages, Dean-o”.

* * *

The monster turned out to be a type of Djinn that attracted its victims promising wishes and had its own dumping ground, which was why they hadn’t found any of the bodies. They dispatched it quickly and they were ready to leave town within a couple of days.

Meg’s chair was parked next to the Impala while Sam put away all of their bags and equipment.

“So,” Sam cleared his throat. “Can I just say, I’m glad you guys could figure it out?”

Meg craned her neck to look up at him.

“Oh? How’s that? I know for a fact Dean is gonna be losing sleep over this for many a night to come.”

“Yeah, well… Dean is a bit… rigid when it comes to these… things.” Sam gestured towards Meg vaguely. “But he’ll come around.” He stopped moving the weapons around and looked at Meg with a smile. “I’m glad because… well, it gives me hope. Even through all of this mess. That you two could find each other again.”

Meg smirked sardonically. “Oh, Sammy, stop, you’re going to make me cry!”

“Okay. Forget I said anything.” Sam pushed Meg’s chair next to the Impala’s open door.

However, she didn’t immediately moved towards the car’s seat. Instead, she looked at Sam over her shoulder again.

“You’re a good sort, you know that, Winchester?”

Sam frowned, confused.

“Not everybody would be as cool as you are with me sticking around, after what I did to you,” she continued. She shifted on the chair awkwardly, as if she suddenly regretted started that particular conversation. “You know, I guess what I’m trying to… I just wanted to…”

Sam understood and smiled.

“Apology accepted, Meg.”

“Oh, good. Let’s not ever do that again.”

She moved from the chair to the seat with agility and closed the door before Sam could get another word in.

The ride back was just as silent as the first time. Except this time, when Sam looked in the rearview mirror, he saw Meg and Castiel curled up together on one side holding hands and Jack slumbering peacefully on the other. And despite the fact that Dean still looked as if he had swallowed an entire beehive, Sam came to the conclusion that things were fairly good right now.


End file.
